by Rebel Hart
The mystery of the letter is the perfect fuel for practice, spurring me on to run faster and harder. Once practice is over, I figure I’ve waited long enough. Brendan’s prediction about Spring coming soon was spot on, and the evening air is less chilly than usual. I sit on the bleachers alone after everyone else has gone inside to shower up and pull the folded note out of my backpack.
“What’s that?” Bridgett asks suddenly from over my shoulder, causing me to jump.
“It was in my locker today,” I reply. “Along with a doll on a noose. Do you know anything about it?”
“No,” she scoffs, looks offended. “Why would you think I’d know about it?”
“I didn’t mean to…accuse you or anything like that. I just didn’t know if you had overheard any of the Elites talking about leaving something like this for me,” I explain.
“I would’ve tried to warn you if I had,” she says, sitting down next to me. “What does it say?”
I hand the note over to her, more than ready to get it out of my hands. She reads over the cut and collaged letters spelling out a warning for me to watch my back and that I might not be so lucky next time.
“What the hell does that mean?” she winces.
“It has to be from whoever fucked with my car and almost killed me,” I tell her. “We can both take a pretty good guess at who might have done that.”
“Can we?”
“Oh, come on,” I huff. “You know Malcolm and the Elites are behind this. No offense, I know you’re technically one of them. But they’re not like you. They’re cruel and heartless, and they hate me.”
She nods and looks thoughtfully out over the track field. I wish I knew what she’s thinking, but it definitely doesn’t seem like she’s hiding anything. I believe her when she says she didn’t know anything about it.
“I don’t know,” she says slowly. “Uncle Liam has been keeping Malcolm so busy with Jameson Automobiles and their software company. I can’t imagine him taking time away from all that to send you death threats. Not saying he wouldn’t do something like that. It just doesn’t make sense right now…timing-wise.”
“What about Bernadette or one of the others?” I suggest. “I mean, Malcolm had time to beat that guy up in the cafeteria today. I can’t totally rule it out.” We sit, quietly contemplating everything for a moment, when suddenly I remember my food being tampered with after I chased Emmett down. “Hey, did you see anyone near my tray before you left the lunchroom today?”
“No, why?”
“It looked like there was something on it. Something that wasn’t there before,” I divulge, thinking I must sound crazy and paranoid.
“Holy shit,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “Someone’s really out to get you, Ophelia. Are you scared?”
I consider the question carefully. I feel on edge and nervous. But scared? When I think of scared, I think of Emmett holding me while his father groped me or having a gun shoved in my face. Recording a hostage video pleading for my life. Maybe my perception is too skewed now, but it takes a lot for me to feel afraid these days.
“At least they warned me this time,” I laugh darkly. “Now I know to be on the lookout for someone trying to kill me. It’s considerate really…if you think about it.”
“Girl, that’s fucked-up,” she smirks. “That’s what I like to call Jameson humor.”
“Ha! I’m sure Emmett would appreciate that term,” I cry out, thinking it feels good to laugh. No matter how fucked-up the situation might be.
“Hey, I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” Bridgett says cautiously. “You don’t think…well…Emmett. He wouldn’t…would he?”
I stare at her blankly, not knowing what she means at first. She nudges the letter in my hands and then it clicks. “Leave me death threats!?” I shriek. “No, no way!”
“Oh, okay. Good,” she answers quickly. “I just…I don’t know. The way you described him before…I know he’s changed and everything, but…If you don’t think he could do something like that, I believe you.”
“Of course, he couldn’t!” I proclaim confidently, but a seed of doubt bounces around inside. The memory of all the torture and humiliation from before doesn’t just disappear, even if it does seem like it came from an entirely different person than the Emmett I have come to know and love. It’s hard to replay those images in my mind without thinking he could be capable of something like this. But why?
“Huh,” I blurt suddenly, panicking as I think it over more. “He was being so weird today. And he left early. The day of my accident…he left early then too.” I look over to Bridgett who is shooting me a sympathetic look, seeming to say: that doesn’t sound good.
“I’m sure you’re right though,” she offers. “He wouldn’t do something like that. He loves you. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just know how fucked-up people in Jameson can be. Sometimes it’s hard to know who you can trust.”
I try to ignore the fact that it could be just as easy to think Bridgett did these things or that maybe I shouldn’t trust her. But Emmett’s behavior around these events is all I can think about now.
“No, it has to be the other Elites,” I insist. “They hate me because of who my dad is. And they want to destroy Emmett’s life. If he lost me…he’d officially have nothing left.”
“Maybe you’re right. But what if Emmett doesn’t actually want to kill you? What if he just wants to scare you so you’ll get the hell out of Jameson?” she asks.
“I don’t think he has any doubt that I’ll be leaving the first chance I get, and hopefully taking him with me. Besides…whoever messed with the brakes on my care definitely wanted me dead.” The thought tightens my chest, as if the whole accident is happening all over again.
“Well, I’m here for you…whatever happens,” she squeezes my hand, noticing the growing worry on my face. “I’ll do my best to help keep an eye out. Protect you in any way I can.”
“Thanks, Bridgett,” I smile, wondering how the hell I’d be navigating all of this without a good friend who is someone besides Emmett.
The paper rattles with a gust of wind, pulling me back in. I read over the words one more time and then crumple it up.
“What are you doing!?” Bridgett shrieks. “You need to save that! For evidence!”
“Evidence?” I laugh. “Anyone around here who would do something like this wouldn’t get in trouble for it anyway, no matter how much evidence we had. I don’t want to keep it around. It’s only going to make me overly paranoid.”
She jerks the crumpled paper from my hands and begins straightening it back out. “Then I’ll keep it,” she insists. “Just in case you ever need it.”
“Well, at least I know it’s not you,” I joke, watching her bury the letter into her backpack. “You’d never stop me from destroying the evidence.”
“Glad you’ve ruled me out as a suspect,” she smirks. “Now, let’s get out of here. It’s too pretty a night to sit around yammering.”
We decide to go on a short run from the school to Bridgett’s house, which is only a couple of miles away. She assures me no one is home and that she knows a back way where no one would see us. There are acres of sprawling property around her parents’ manor, which is pretty small for a manor, at least in comparison to Jameson manor and the Henderson Estate. We hop on a couple of bikes stored near the pool house and ride around in the woods, soaking up the crisp but warm evening air. As we ride, she tells me all about her favorite places to run in California and says she may even consider going back there herself after graduation. Even if it does piss her family off.
When it gets too dark to see, we walk the bikes back to the yard that’s well-lit with decorative lights mixed in among the landscaping. The sparkling blue pool glows orange from all the hanging lights and I find myself hoping that Bridgett and I are still friends by summertime so I can dive in. Just like tonight has been fun, and almost made me forget about the death threats entirely, I hop
e I can enjoy just one month of summer in Jameson before I go. Without anything crazy happening, so I can walk out of this hell hole with at least a handful of pleasant memories.
Chapter Sixteen
BOOK 3
The next night, I turn back to Marissa’s diary as an escape from my own scary life for a moment. She talks about how excited she is for prom and how she plans to lose her virginity to Thomas that night. It’s easy to forget that I know the rest of the story. Reading her young and innocent teenage words, you’d never guess how corrupt and evil both her and Thomas would become. At this point, they’re two seemingly normal teens caught up in the throes of their all-consuming lust.
The hormonally charged writing makes me miss Emmett. I decide to call him and ask if I can come over. He still seems distant and weird on the phone but wants to see me. I start to rush out the door after hanging up, but then a dress catches my eye from the closet. It’s a tight, red dress that I bought for a Valentine’s Day dance at my old school. It pops against my dark eyes and skin and hugs my figure perfectly. I haven’t worn it since the dance, but it looks so good on me it seems like a shame to just let it sit there in my closet.
I decide to slip into it and take a few extra minutes to fix my hair and put on some matching red lipstick. Then I slide into my long leather coat that I only wear on special occasions. The next trick is sneaking out without my mom and Brendan seeing me. They’d tease me to no end if they saw me all dressed up like this for no reason.
Emmett’s face drops when he answers his door. His jaw goes slack as his eyes look me up and down, drinking in every inch of me.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs. “You look incredible. Get in here. Now.” He swoops his arm around my back and pulls me inside, instantly pressing his lips to mine as all tension between us seems to fade.
Keeping his mouth against mine, rolling his tongue in and out, he walks us towards the bedroom. I can already feel his excitement growing, especially as he pushes me against the door, deepening his kiss and pressing into me. Without taking his attention off of me, he fumbles for the door handle behind him and finally opens it up.
His hands slide under the dress, grazing the fabric of my panties across my ass, sparking a heightened surge of desire in both of us. “I want your body so bad,” he hisses. “But I almost don’t want to take this thing off of you…you look so good in it.”
“So don’t,” I suggest mischievously, guiding his hands up to my breasts without removing my dress.
He slides them around to my back, unfastening my bra before moving his thumbs back to my nipples. He massages each one and then takes them into his mouth, working his tongue over the red satiny fabric. The urge to feel him between my legs grows, prompting me to grab one of his hands and move it downward. He slides down my lace underwear and flings them to the side, then teases the dripping wetness.
I roll my head back with a moan as he flicks his tongue over my nipple and teases me with his fingers. I grab his hips and move him closer to the bed. Before he can throw me down onto his comforter, I turn around and press my back into him while he runs his hands all over my body. As he pushes his erection against me, I bend over and lift the dress up, giving him the perfect view of my ass. He gives it a quick and playful slap before undoing his belt. His pants fall to the floor, and I soon feel the soft skin stretched over his hardness teasing around my folds.
I reach back and grip his hips, jerking him closer and begging him to enter me as I lean over the bed. He guides my legs up onto the mattress, angling me around him. We both cry out as he slides inside of me. I’m so tight from this angle and he fills me up to the brim, caressing against every last tingling nerve as he slowly moves in and out.
He pounds into my g-spot and the pulsating tissue inside, coaxing me to climax. I’m so close and can tell he is getting there too. I arch my back, pressing into him more before I start rocking back and forth, matching his rhythm. He moves faster with me, our bodies slamming together in unison. He groans out in strings of words I can’t understand, his voice deep and straining as he grows impossibly hard inside of me.
“Yes, that’s it, baby,” I whimper as we pick up the pace more and more. I dig my nails into his thighs and any other flesh within my reach.
Just as I start to feel the build of overwhelming pleasure coarse through me from inside, he reaches his fingers around and begins massaging me, pushing me over the edge. I cry out through my orgasm, feeling him pulsing inside of me as he grows close. As I come down off of my own wave, he pulls out to cum. He grabs at my back, but I quickly turn around and pull him into my mouth, wanting to drink him in. I feel the hot liquid spilling out in my mouth as he makes noises unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him before.
“Well, that was unexpected,” he pants, smiling down at me.
He reaches down and pulls me up to my feet, kissing me softly before I press my head to his chest and wrap my arms around him. We crash down onto his bed and lay there for a long time, tangled up in each other’s skin.
“I’ve missed this,” I whisper as I twirl my fingers through his curls.
“What?” he asks.
“Feeling close to you.”
“Is that what this was all about?” he teases, tugging at the fabric of my dress.
“Sort of,” I smirk. “I guess. I didn’t think about it too much. It just seemed like it couldn’t hurt to spice things up a bit. It seems like you only ever see me looking frumpy.”
“You never look frumpy.” He rolls me over and spreads his hands across my curves. “Even when you’re in sweats, I know all of this is waiting underneath and it drives me mad.”
I bite my lip, thinking of how strange he’s been acting. I want to say he has a funny way of showing it sometimes if that’s how he feels, but I don’t want to spoil the moment. And I definitely don’t want to slip and accidentally blurt out that just yesterday Bridgett and I were wondering if he is responsible for all the recent threats to my life.
“There is something I need to tell you,” I confess, realizing I never told him about the letter. “I think the Elites are threatening me again.”
“What are you talking about?” he jerks up with concern. “What happened?”
I tell him all about the strange tampering with my food followed by the hanging doll and death threat letter. His face tenses up with anger as I speak. He clenches his fists, and I wonder if I might have to keep him from storming out to beat Malcolm’s ass when I’m done explaining everything.
“Do you think Bridgett has anything to do with it?” he suggests almost immediately.
“Funny you should say that,” I laugh bitterly.
“Why? You think it’s her?”
“No, never mind,” I try to hide my smile over the irony of his accusation. Of course, my only friend and boyfriend don’t like each other. Things would just be too easy otherwise. “I’m positive it has to be the Elites. All of this started happening after I told this girl in the hall that I wasn’t afraid of them. I know Malcolm heard me. We have to get out of this stupid fucking town.”
He leans back across the bed, propping his head up on his arms as he stares up at the ceiling. I expect him to agree with me. For us to start scheming about the big beautiful lives we’ll have as soon as we get away, like we used to. But instead, he’s silent, and it makes me terribly uneasy.
“What’s going on up there?” I ask, caressing my hand across his forehead.
His eyes meet mine and it looks like something is just on the tip of his tongue. But it fades away into a smile as he leans forward to kiss me again. “Nothing,” he says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when all that happened. But you know I’ll do anything I can to protect you. You’re safe with me.”
He pulls me against his body, reminding me how much I love the warmth of his skin when I’m stretched out next to it. I want to believe I’m safe with him, but sometimes the looming danger feels so big and mysterious that I’m not sure anyone can really protect me. Emmett ma
y have been able to save my life before, but there were so many other things that happened during that time that he couldn’t protect me from. So many things that were done by his own hands.
I push it all from my mind and let out a big sigh as I roll over and slide to the edge of the bed. “I guess I should start getting ready to go,” I groan. “I can’t be out too late or Mom will start to flip out. They’ve been extra fussy about my schedule lately. I guess they don’t want me to be dealing with all this preparation for college while running on no sleep.”
“They’re right,” he insists as my hand slides from his. “Now is not the time to be running on empty.”
I start to gather my clothes from the floor, feeling sad about how things have been between us before tonight. “Hey, you know…we will talk about all of this college stuff soon. Coach helped me narrow it down to a handful of schools and I want to discuss it with you before I decide anything.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he says as he stands up and slides into a t-shirt and boxer shorts. “I want you to pick a school based on what’s best for you. Not what you think will work for me. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”
His words instantly lift some of the heaviness I’ve been feeling lately. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
I turn around to slide back into my boots, looking aimlessly around his room as I go. I notice more clutter on his desk than usual, and then a sheet of graph paper grabs my attention. I step closer and see schematics for some kind of car. From the notes scribbled around it, I can see it’s an energy-efficient model.
“What’s this?” I ask in shock just as he bounds over to try and keep me from seeing it, but it’s too late.
“Nothing!” he defends, snatching it from my hands and shoving it into a drawer. He even goes so far as to brace his body back against the drawer, as if he has to physically stop me from fishing it out and seeing it again.